Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Iceland and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Big Daddy Kane to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Fatback Band,
Chris & Cosey,
Aaron Thompson,
Khruangbin,
R.M.O.,
Tears for Fears,
Stetsasonic,
Absolute Body Control,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Radiopuhelimet,
Young Marble Giants,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
John Holt,
Sandy B,
Grauzone,
Harry Pussy,
Mo-Dettes,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gong,
Electric Prunes,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jeff Mills,
The Invisible,
The Star Department,
Iggy Pop,
Joy Division,
Sixth Finger,
Maurizio,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Fear,
Oblivians,
The Smoke,
Junior Murvin,
Make Up,
JFA,
Cluster,
Au Pairs,
Jacques Brel,
Ten City,
Davy DMX,
Rites of Spring,
Public Image Ltd.,
Flash Fearless,
Delta 5,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Zero Boys,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Peter and Kerry,
Eve St. Jones,
Underground Resistance,
Rod Modell,
Leonard Cohen,
Ituana,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Doors,
Robert Hood,
Urselle,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Isaac Hayes,
The New Christs,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.